Ins and Outs
by augmentedfourth
Summary: Believing that there will be more privacy there than at The Hanged Man, Hawke takes Isabela back to his estate for a night of passion. He was wrong. Very wrong.


"Be quiet! Someone will hear us!"

"It doesn't matter. They're all asleep." Hawke shoved Isabela up against the door to his estate and resumed his assault on her mouth. She tasted of the many pints of ale she had consumed that evening, and beneath the remnants of their drink was a hint of something sweet and tangy, something undeniably _her_. She was utterly irresistible, and he couldn't get enough. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and she rallied back with a playful jab of her own. If she continued to tease him like this, he feared he would wind up taking her right there in the middle of the Hightown courtyard.

Without removing his lips from hers, he fumbled for the doorknob behind her. It turned more easily than he anticipated, and they stumbled into the luxurious abode, barely catching themselves before they plummeted to the floor. Hawke shut the door, making an attempt to do so as silently as possible. Isabela giggled at their graceless entrance. "See? I told you we should have just stayed at The Hanged Man."

"That place smells like piss and vermin."

"You always said that was part of its charm!"

He pulled her in for another rough kiss before leading her to the staircase. "It's too crowded there. Besides, I didn't spend all that coin to get this place back just to leave it empty night after night. There's a very fine bed upstairs, and I intend to make a mess of it with you!"

She laughed again as they ascended the steps and entered his chambers. "With all you've had to drink tonight, I'll be surprised if you even know which end of the bed is up!"

"Oh, really?" Without warning, Hawke scooped her into his arms and lumbered towards the elaborate piece of furniture that stood at the back of the room. He dropped her on top of the covers with her feet resting atop the pillows at the head of the bed and climbed next to her. "Is this what you meant? Am I too inebriated for you?"

A devilish glint appeared in Isabela's eyes and she tugged at the waistband of his pants. "I don't care how much the ale affected your _mind_, love. It doesn't matter to me where we do this, just as long as we do it right."

He leaned in for another kiss, his hands mirroring her explorations. Their blades were discarded, tossed off the bed with a resounding clank, and he set to work on her jewelry. Her earrings clattered against the hardwood floor, and her heavy necklace was his next target. "This is going to have to go," he stated, toying with the clasp. "It won't do to have you trying to cover up all the spots that make you want to scream my name."

She was about to protest his arrogant claim when he kissed a trail from her earlobe down the line of her slender neck. Gentle kisses turned into mischievous nibbles, and her breath caught in her throat. When he reached the sensitive skin above her collarbone, a moan escaped her lips near his ear.

Her hot breath kindled nerve endings of his own, and Hawke stiffened in anticipation of what was to come. He was tempted to simply lift her tunic, unbutton his trousers, and plunge his aching cock into her immediately, but Isabela's body was a treat to be savored and thoroughly enjoyed. His mouth moved lower to the swell of her chest, and his fingers found the laces that held the impossibly rounded globes of flesh in place. Her skin was soft and quivering beneath his cheek, and he dragged his tongue between her breasts as he freed them from their constricting prison.

"Hey, don't suffocate in there," she teased.

"If I did, I would die a happy man." He kneaded her supple breasts before dipping his head down to suck one dark, pointed nipple into his mouth. The feeling of her beneath him, combined with the contented sighs that escaped her threatened to make his growing erection burst right through its own fabric confines. His patience had its limitations, and he pulled the remainder of the flimsy white cloth up over her head so she was bared to him.

Isabela's boots provided a more challenging puzzle. After a futile attempt at undoing the straps that held them in place, she grabbed at him. Fisting the fabric of his shirt in her hand, she held him close to her naked body. "Leave them on," she growled against his mouth.

Hawke was more than happy to oblige. Before long, his own clothing joined the growing pile on the floor, and there was nothing separating him from the beautiful woman in his bed other than a thin sheen of sweat and an inebriated haze. Her long legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him towards her. He had resisted temptation long enough, and he sought to plunder the treasure that lay beneath him.

She moaned again as he penetrated her soft folds. He was too engrossed in his own pleasure to acknowledge it, sinking deep into the warmth that enveloped his cock. It was not the first time he'd experienced all she had to offer, but nothing could ever diminish the thrill he felt every time she joined him in bed. _"Maker, she's incredible,"_ he thought.

He closed his eyes. Propping himself up with his elbows, he thrust in and out of her, his hips grinding against hers as if they were possessed by the power of a demon. Every time their bodies met, it sent an electrifying current through his tensed muscles. The scent of her hair, the way she writhed against him…everything about her was intoxicating.

He was about to completely lose himself to their unadulterated bliss when a high-pitched shriek cut through the air. "Already?" Hawke muttered, more to himself than to his lover. "But we just started!"

Isabela yelped again, and he opened his eyes. The force with which he'd slammed into her repeatedly had nudged her closer to the edge of the bed so her head was hanging down off the foot. Any potential discomfort was not the source of her surprised utterances, however. Hawke glanced upwards and found himself staring straight into the round, blue eyes of one of his dwarven attendants. "Boom!" the third party declared.

"I didn't know you were inviting an audience tonight!" Isabela said, her sultry tone making it near impossible to judge whether or not she was annoyed by the intrusion.

Hawke's irritation was more apparent. "Sandal! You shouldn't be in here! Go back to bed!"

He cocked his head to the side. "Enchantment?"

The warrior, still positioned between the widespread legs of his beloved pirate, groaned. "Not now."

"…Enchantment?"

"No. No enchantment. Maybe tomorrow. Please, go back to bed."

The sound of footsteps on the staircase grew closer. "Sandal? Where are you, boy?" Bodahn entered the room, his jaw dropping as he observed the scene before him. "Oh! A thousand pardons, messere. When I woke up and saw that my boy wasn't in the room, I thought it best that I locate him, to make sure he hadn't gotten out, and…."

Hawke waved him off with his hand, trying to ignore the awkward qualities of his compromised position. "It's okay. Go back to bed."

"You heard him! Sandal, let's go!"

The younger dwarf paid no attention to the instructions. His attention had been captivated by the jewelry that was scattered about the floor, and he picked up Isabela's golden choker. "Ooh, shiny!"

"Sandal, put that down!"

Lighter footsteps approached, accompanied by the sound of heavy panting. While Bodahn tried to convince his son to return downstairs, the family's faithful mabari hound appeared beside Isabela's head, its tail wagging from side to side. "I didn't summon you!" Hawke said. "Shoo!"

Dog took no notice of its master's disapproval and barked merrily. "It's okay, you're still a good boy," Isabela cooed. In a show of gratitude, she got a cold, wet nose nuzzling her cheek. "Eep! That tickles!"

"What is going on in here?" spoke a new voice.

"Oh no…."

Leandra rubbed her eyes. Once she was able to rid herself of her drowsiness and focus on what lay in front of her, she screamed. "Garrett Hawke! What in the Maker's name do you think you're doing?"

Hawke groaned, but struggled to keep the situation under control. Realizing that his torso was no longer shielding the woman beneath him from view, he snatched the bandanna off Isabela's head and tried to use it to cover up her prominently nude breasts. The small square of blue cloth was woefully insufficient for such a monumental task. "Mother, you remember my friend Isabela…."

"Hello!" The pirate offered a friendly wave while still hanging upside down off the bed.

Leandra averted her gaze and paced back and forth in front of the doorway. "We haven't even been in Hightown for a year! We're supposed to be rejoining the ranks of the nobility! I _knew_ I should have worked harder to find you a proper wife right away, but instead, you still go out drinking in the Lowtown taverns every night. Now you're cavorting around with this…this…."

"I can still hear you, you know." Isabela's attempts at courtesy were short-lived.

"Mother, we can talk about it in the morning. Just go back to bed. Please."

"What's everyone staring at? Is something wrong?" A thin elf clad in a plain cotton nightgown appeared beside Leandra.

"Everything's fine, Orana. You don't need to be here."

Her pointed ears twitched and she wrinkled her nose, confused at what she was seeing. "I think I saw Papa playing this game with one of the magisters once. He said that it wasn't for girls like me and I should just forget the whole thing."

Leandra folded her arms across her chest, glaring at her son. "I raised you better than this! I hope you're happy now, waking up the whole household and exposing them to such filth!"

Isabela's eyes narrowed, an expression that conveyed her displeasure regardless of her upside down state. "There's nothing filthy in here!"

Orana stepped forward and began collecting the crumpled clothing and folding them into neat piles. Hawke reached out to stop her, but he was still buried to the hilt inside the pirate. Too much movement would leave him exposed to his mother, his dog, and the staff of his estate. He buried his face in the blanket next to Isabela's shoulder. "What's next?" he yelled. "Gamlen dropping by for one of his family visits? Bethany being released from the Circle? Father and Carver coming back from the bloody dead?"

"Hawke? Is everything okay?" rang another familiar voice.

"…Shit."

"There were reports of yelling and screaming coming from your home, and I took my best patrol to come investigate." Aveline's face popped up over Leandra's shoulder, immediately followed by those of a half dozen guardsmen. The guard captain's authoritative glare fixed on the woman half hanging off the bed. "I see," she said coldly. "I should have known Isabela had something to do with this."

"Don't act all high and mighty with me, big girl. I know what goes on in your office with you and Donnic."

The guardsmen made little effort to hide their snickering. While Aveline turned around to silence them with a steely expression, another figure pushed her way to the front of the group. "Did I just hear Isabela? Is she in there, too?"

"Merrill? What are you doing here?"

The dark-haired elf peeked out from the doorjamb. "I was just taking a stroll in Hightown. All the flowers are so pretty in the moonlight, it's a lovely time to go for a walk! I don't know why more people don't do it! The city is just so exciting at all times of the day or night. I was about to head home through a dark alley, when Aveline found me and…." Merrill frowned. "I know, I'm rambling again. I'll stop now."

"It's okay."

The frown deepened as she realized what was happening – or, rather, what had been happening – in the bed. "Oh. Oh dear. I wasn't supposed to see this, was I? I'm always doing this, saying all the wrong things, showing up where I don't belong…."

"Relax, kitten." Isabela tried to reassure her friend. "There's nothing in here to be ashamed of."

"Speak for yourself." Hawke looked down at her, still trying to keep the more intimate parts of their bodies as concealed as possible. "If Anders or Fenris walks through that door next, I'm using one of your daggers to slit my own throat."

His aggravation was further ignored due to the storm of chaos that ripped through the room. Leandra bemoaned her family's inevitable decline back into disgrace. Aveline attempted to comfort her, all while shooting dirty looks at the naked couple at the center of the pandemonium. Isabela didn't notice, as she was busy politely answering any questions Merrill had about the current circumstances, though the elf's face appeared inverted to her as she was still partially hanging off the bed.

Choosing not to participate in the ongoing conversations, Orana completed her task of neatly arranging the rumpled clothing into a stack on a chair in the corner. She then set to smoothing out the wrinkled sheets and folding the blankets, oblivious to Hawke's bared ass mere inches from her face. "Orana," he said through gritted teeth. "It's customary to make the bed _after_ its inhabitants are done with it!"

"Oh!" She sprang backwards. "I'm so sorry, Master! I'll do a better job next time!"

"It's okay." He sighed and tried to speak in a more soothing tone. "You're doing just fine, Orana. Don't worry about it."

She didn't have time to answer before the mabari nearly knocked her to the floor. It was being chased by Sandal, who had lost interest in putting Isabela's jewelry on himself and was trying to collar the dog with it. "Shiny!" he told the rambunctious pet. Despite its good-natured tendencies, Dog wanted nothing to do the dwarf's endeavors to adorn it with the thick golden charms. Bodahn's attempts to corral both his son and the hound were equally fruitless, and he, too, almost went crashing into the elven servant.

Leandra wailed, Orana sniveled, Sandal laughed, Dog barked, Bodahn apologized, Merrill inquired, and Isabela dangled. Aveline disapproved of all of the above. Hawke reached the end of his patience. "_Enough!_" he bellowed. Everyone stopped what he or she was doing to stare at him peevishly. "Everybody out!"

Attempts to argue with him were quashed as he put up a hand to prevent anyone else from speaking over him. "I will deal with you all in the morning. I promise. Just _get out of my bedroom!_"

Grumbling to themselves, all the unexpected visitors trudged out of the room and down the stairs. The last person, thankfully, remembered to shut the door behind the large group. Only Isabela remained, still sprawled beneath Hawke with the ends of her hair brushing against the floorboards as her head drooped off the bed.

He helped her into a sitting position. "I think that killed the mood for me," he admitted. "I'm limper than a corpse that's been rotting on the Wounded Coast for a week."

"Same here," she said, rubbing her temples. "All my blood started flowing to the wrong places, anyway."

"I'll make it up to you tomorrow night."

"Only if we can stay at The Hanged Man." She grinned and poked him in the chest with one finger. "Not only was I right about how we should have stayed there tonight, but now I hope you can understand why I'll never move in here with you!"

Hawke feigned offense, dramatically clutching her hand to his heart. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad!"

"Maybe, maybe not." The wicked gleam reappeared in Isabela's honey-colored eyes. "You do know what the worst part of it is, don't you?"

"What's that?"

"With everyone that was in and out of here, tonight's calamities are bound to make their way into one of Varric's stories."


End file.
